The Last Precinct: Redemption
by DarkTyger
Summary: Rayne never told anyone about her past but when a old friend is the main suspect in a new case, will her demons take control? Or will she learn to forgive and forget? FemmeSlash.
1. Prologue

**Prologue  
Musk Hotel, Sydney. Search Mission.**

High above the roar of the streets, in the darkened, living room of apartment 303, a lone woman sat. Waiting.

The light from the moon filtered through the lace curtains, making the woman's fur glitter. The woman eye's remained focused on the screen of the laptop computer in front of her.

She stood and stretched, walking over to the window and peering out. Up high on the outer edges of the building, she knew, a Pikachu, hidden in the shadows, stood guard. Standing over six-feet, the top of her head brushed the top of the window frame. Her dirty white fur stood on end as the cold night air blow through the opened window. Her tail wrapped around her leg in a futile attempt to keep warm, despite her fur, she was cold.

I should have brought a jacket-

She was restless. She began to pace along the wall. Her wrists twitched in rhythm, to her footsteps, the steel blades connected underneath her arms flicked around to the front of her arms. Back, forth, back, forth.

She glanced at her watch. 15 minutes had past since she had started her search. Her portable computer that was connected to wrist, beeped and flashed.

"Have you found anything?" Draven voiced broke the silence.

"Nothing yet, I'll tell you if I do,"

"When you do, when you do,"

"Since when did you convert to optimism? Rayne snarled, slightly annoyed. He was at home, warm. She was here, cold. Damn him.

"Since, Markus has made his new home up my arse," he retorted.

"Understood, I contact you." Rayne disconnected the conversation.

From its place on the desk, the computer beeped, indicating there was match. Rayne strode over to the desk and glanced at the screen.

The silence in the room was broken once again. Staring at the screen, Agent Rayne gasped.


	2. Undead

**_Brisbane, Australia. Four Years Prior._**

"I cant handle this. I'm leaving."

"You cant leave! I'm not going to let you."

Ness glared at her father with barely concelled contempted. Ever since he heard the news about her announcment, he hadn't been the same. No one had.

"If I'm old enough to know who I want, then I'm old enough to leave. I ship out tomorow. I cant live in a place that refuses to accept me for what I am. I cant live in a place that doesnt feel like home anymore. It never really has."

Her father looked at her. Couldnt she see? She was delorious, surely.

"We said we would pay for your help. We're willling to help you. We want to see you get better!'

"Don't you get it? There is nothing wrong with me, exept for the fact I may have to use a little more shampoo on occusion. You cant 'change' feelings Dad. You dont screw with someon feeling, or they are going to get hurt, like your doing now"

"Is this what you want? To live on the streets? Your not going and thats final!"

Ness picked up her backpack and slipped it over her shoulders. She looked forlonly over the room that had been her home for many years. It held to many memories now, she had to go. She wouldnt give them the satisfaction of staying.

"You know what? Stiff shit. Sriously. I couldnt give a rats arse what anyone thinks anymore. As from now, you dont exsist, none of you. Your gone. It's my life and I intend to do with it, what ever the hell I want."

Ness walked out the door and on to the street. In a moment her life was over and a new one had began. She was dead and someone would have to take her place. The walking dead. She hitched up her backpack. Her life support system for how ever long it would take, where-ever she would go. She took one last glance around and squared her shoulders.

"Showtime."


	3. Findings

**Sydney, Australia. Termination Mission **

The alley was dimly lit; nothing could be seen but the flicker of a nearby lamppost, which looked like it wasn't going to keep its glow for much longer anyway. Rain was falling on the City of Brisbane; it rained a lot here, as if all the misery in the world was somehow contained all in one place, if this was true, this was the place. A distant echo of laughter and tapping of feet against the cobblestones could be heard - that is, if anyone was around to hear it - but as sudden as it had arrived, the laughter and footsteps died away, and the dark alley was once again completely silent.

Shadows created menacing shapes against the walls, forever changing shape, forever becoming more monstrous. Some people say the human imagination can take over in times of fear and create monsters, but not even the human imagination could create such horrifying images as what was moving in the shadows, waving and weaving, forever changing shape and size. If walls could talk, these walls would cut out their own tongues. The shadows died away, but they would be back, this was Brisbane. Another noise became present, a high-pitched squeak, and then another one, it echoed along the alleyways.

The sound was coming from two mangy rats, they clawed at each other and made loud squeals as one of them made a successful hit, the image of the rats could visible by the flickering of the lamppost, red eyes reflecting against the light that continued to struggle for life. Four red eyes were moving furiously in the darkness, dodging and jumping around, you couldn't compare this to anything; nothing could describe such misery as this. One of the rats pounced onto the other, and sank its long, crude, rough edged teeth into the other rodent's flesh, a death cry of agony echoed along the alleyway, and the rat died, blood pouring into a nearby gutter with the gushing rain water, swirling together and making its way down to the depths of the city's sewers.

The rain continued to pour, but now it got louder. It hammered against street; what could be seen was the flickering light hitting the ripples of the puddles, rings of light fading away into nothingness. A figure slowly rose to her feet and put her hand soothingly on her head, she looked down in contempt at the dark puddle of blood that remained at where she just arose from, and silently glanced at the vertical slash wounds at the mans chest, the man clutched them tightly with his hands, and turned his head away in disbelief as the wounds slowly started to spread. She walked aimlessly down the ally, away from the dying figure, and stopped. She peered into a nearby window, the glass was had been broken, but she could still see her reflection in a remaining shard. She peered closer, something wasn't right about her face, it seemed to be older, and the longer she looked at the glass, the older she became. She shook her head and ran down the ally into the joining street. There she saw other people walking the streets, and if it wasn't for the slow, inaccurate steps that these people made, it could almost be said that they were dead.

She heard something smash behind her; she jerked her head back quickly and saw a bright glow slowly die down into darkness, and heard a tinkering against the street - even Light didn't want to stay in this place, a place where darkness ruled. She didn't know who she was, or where she was anymore, all she knew was that she wasn't part of this place anymore. Some people called this place Hell; some people called it a dump, others just call it a City.

There were stories about this place, most people were too frightened to leave their homes, what with the rioting going on but every so often, a new soul would emerge into the city, searching for something, or possibly somewhere, somewhere to call home.

The Heart of the city Hotel was a dump in its prime. Now it was a condemned, rat-infested shithole not even worth the expense of tearing it down. Rayne kicked a path through the trash that lined the corridor, her nose crinkled in disdain. She had to fight down bile rising in her throat. She stopped outside the door to room 303 and sighed, running a tired hand through her short crop of black hair as she took a good look around.

She could smell the rodent droppings; taste the dust in the air. The heat was oppressive outside; inside the abandoned hotel it was like an oven. Rayne could feel the sweat forming on her back, clinging to fur. Damp fur was not the best smell in the world. Her clothes were sticking to her fit, athletic body in the most uncomfortable places. She wished now she'd bought a cold six-pack at the liquor store on the corner.

Rayne could not imagine another person deliberately hanging around in such squalor; but she knew she wasn't alone. She rapped on the door to room 303 then headed inside. Power had been restored to the building and the room was illuminated by the single light fixture still mounted on the wall. She would have preferred darkness to seeing what surrounded her but she realised, it wouldn't help. There was no furniture. Piles of garbage rested in all four corners. She couldn't place the smell.

The click-click-clicking that filled the room might have been mistaken for the patter of little mouse feet but the sliver of light coming from the wall revealed a woman sitting at a computer. She was dressed in black and had her back to the door. Her dark hair was slicked back, simple and efficient.

Jesus, Rayne thought. Sarah looks so fucking hot in that outfit.

Shutting the door, Rayne crossed the room and stood behind the woman at the computer. The screen of the laptop flashed. She could see Sarah's face reflected in the monitor, set in stone, dark eyes focused on the information being processed. Not so much as a glance up at her. That came as no surprise.

"Trouble?" Sarah asked.

Rayne snorted in disdain. "Would I be here if there had been?"

"No."

Rayne leaned down and pressed her lips to the nape of Sarah's neck. The skin was so soft . . . so perfect . . . tasting of salt from nervous sweat. She couldn't stop herself, Sarah was just too delicious.

"Rayne, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you."

"Yes, I know," Sarah said. "But why?"

"Like I have to explain the concept," Rayne murmured.

"It's very distracting. Stop it."

Rayne slid to the floor and leaned her back against the wall, removing the bottle of whisky from the brown paper bag, unscrewing the cap, and taking a generous swig, all in the space of a few seconds. The burning in her throat felt good, she knew she shouldn't especially on duty, she just didn't care all that much at the moment.

"So what'd you get?"

"Baileys," Rayne growled. Then, softer, and not without pain, she said, "I thought you liked to play with me."

"Not now, I'm working."

Rayne snarled at the reply. She was only kidding. She took her job to seriously to be at it like a bunch of teenagers.

A flash of light indicated that Rayne's Poke'mon had finally caught on that she had alcohol.

"Mine," Rayne jumped up from her place on the floor and held the bottle high over her head. She looked at and grinned at Sarah, who had turned around to watch the action. Sarah grinned and shook her head. Rayne caught a flash of the computer screen and the bottle smashed to the ground.

"What's wrong?" Sarah concerned voice filled the air. Pikachu and Jolteon spun around and jumped up on Sarah's lap to look at the computer screen.

"Nothing, it's..nothing. Nothing at all," Rayne stumered. "Why is that on the screen?" Rayne pointed to the document.

"I don't know, it's just something Markus wanted," Sarah replied.

"Well, I'm going to find out."


	4. A101303H

**Sydney, Australia. Present Day**

**The Last Precinct**

**A101303H **

**Assassination 101-303 Hybrid **

**Name: **Matthew Blyde

**Species: **Scyther/Human Hybrid

**Date of Birth: **18 August 1986

**Age: **20

**Country of Birth: **Brisbane, Australia

**Height: **184cm

**Weight: **75kg

**Eye Colour: **Brown

**Hair Colour: **Brown

**Notes; **Unique Human/Scyther hybrid. Blades, armour plating on body and pokemon instincts renders target armed and dangerous. Proceed with caution. If possible use ranged attack and stealth.

**Status: **Termination **Next of Kin: **Yes

**Next of Kin:** Mother, Stepfather, Brother

**Reason: **Known training instructor in enemy organization.

**Agent to be nominated: **Agent Rayne – 007494

Assassinations were not too common at The Last Precinct. For an organisation that prided itself on making the world a more liveable place for humans and hybrids alike, by any means, it was a vital part of everyday life at the HQ. Though un common it wasn't rare/ Talk of assassination was common though only used as a last resort.

Agents were used to killing. They were trained in it. Whether it be to bring down a hostile, violent offender or in self-defence, killing was a part of your time at the agency.

Rayne didn't mind killing, not in the slightest. Some people you couldn't negotiate with, no matter how hard you tried and sometimes wiping them out was the best thing, for them, for society and for yourself but sometimes there were incidents when wipping out a targeted wasn't warranted.

Like now.

Rayne looked down at the information sheet in her hands. She growled slightly in contempt for the man standing in front of her. It was just like him to do this.

Ever since the search mission at the Musk Hotel, Rayne had been apprehensive about this mission. The information she had received then had been sketchy and limited at best. Four targets,four kills all in the same area. Hybrids. Easy. What had gotten to her was the fact it was a family, an average normal hybrid family trying to make ends meet with the world. One mum, one dad and two kids. Nuclear.

But appearance can be deceiving. Whilst a happy family on the outside could be something more sinister on the inside.

This wasn't what bothered her.

Rayne didn't know what was bothering her so much about this particular mission. She had taken out family before. Underground criminals at their best. They were just another set of objectives, but for some reason it bothered her. For weeks. Until now.

The information that Sarah had received had been sent to HQ and then Rayne had been summoned. Taking one look at the sheet of paper in her hand, she hadn't gotten any closer to believing it then she had when she had first seen it in the derelict structure that was Apartment 303.

She knew them. Personally.

"I can't accept this mission. Choose someone else to complete it." She glared at Markus, then man was standing in front of her positively beaming at her, now as she said that, even more so. He had found Rayne's weakness.

"Problems, Agent Rayne?" He sneered.

"No, _Sir, _There are plenty of capable agents in the field, more then enough who would be willing to accept this type of mission." Good plan, bump it off to someone else, give someone else the responsibility, someone she didn't have to see and know that they had killed friends.

"Are you having troubles with the prospect of this mission? Not going soft on us, are you Rayne? We can't have Agents that feel compassion for their targets."

"No Sir, the workload is what is getting to me. I haven't had a formal break in over 9 months, now" Rayne knew that this tactic would not work but it was the only excuse she had. Bullshitting to an idiot was a hard task to pull off.

"And, we also can't have Agents that cant handle what we assign them. Shows weakness. Its doesn't matter if you don't take the rest of your life off, you do your _duty. _Agent Rayne." He grinned on the word duty, he was getting off on this. Arsehole. Rayne didn't think her urge to maim could get any higher then this.

"You are to complete the mission and then write up a report on everything that happened whilst in the field. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir." She clenched her teeth together; she really wanted to hit the wanker, right between the eyes. She turned and stalked away in defeat, there was no point in retorting or arguing with him. It was only wasted breath.

"Hey kitty-cat, whats wrong?" Draven looked up from the floor where he had fallen. He had been startled out of his chair when she had slammed open the door. His poke' balls scattered in all directions. A bottle of polish rolled under the bed. Draven was the only person alive, that Rayne knew off, who polished his balls.

"That, idiot. That stupid fucking wanker is the lowest form of scum I have ever had the unfortune to meet." She bent down and picked up polish from under the bed and handed to him.

"Say whats really on your mind. Talking about our esteemed Senior Agent I take it? How was your meeting? Get any lovely presents?"

Rayne attempted to pull out Jolteon from her place in the window. When Rayne had slammed open the door, she had jumped and bolted, straight into a half opened window and gotten stuck.

"If it was lovely, would I be pissed off? Here" Draven leant over and took the sheet of paper from the hybrids hand. "A 'A 101-303 H', family target. You have done this before, why so choppy?"

"I haven't had a break Draven. All I want is a nice holiday somewhere nice for once." She swore under her breath, Jolteon was not budging.

"We all know what you want." A amused sounding voice intoned from the door. The pair turned and found Sarah leaning against the doorframe. "Need any help?" Rayne let go of Jolteon and grabbed the piece of paper out of Dravens hand.

"Look at this!" Turning around and seeing Draven climb to his feet and inspected the window. "I wouldn't.." she warned.

"Jeez, what do you feed your Poke'mon, Jolteon you're getting a little plump there.." Dravens voice died off as a bolt of lighting erupted from Jolteons body and hit him full force.

"I warned you not to." Rayne grinned at her smoking partner.

"Whats wrong with this? You've don't plenty of these" Sarah looked up from the paper, puzzled.

"What on earth was that?" A startled voice cried from the doorway. Blaze looked in.

"Nothing. Just Draven teaching us his way of winning over woman" Sarah smirked and flopped down on a chair.

"Looks like he jolt of insight into that" Blaze grinned and walked over to the stuck Poke'mon. Placing her hands under the Poke'mon body, she pulled. "You're wedged in tight aren't you? You've learnt your lesson."

It wasn't my fault! Blame her!- Jolteon pointed her tail at Rayne.

"Right blame the owner. Lovely"

"Blame Rayne? Oh..all the time" A gruff voice said. Turning and seeing Pete standing in the doorway, she through up her hands in frustration.

"What is this a fucking circus?"

"At the moment, that is what it looks like. I thought I told you to get on with your work?" Sneering a the group of Agents in front of him, Senior Agent Markus laughed.

"What have we here" Indicating the stuck Poke'mon. "I would feed your pets a little less, there getting quite fat, Agent Rayne. Now all of you, back to work!" He turned and stalked off. Even Jolteon knew not to jolt the senior agent. So she opted for Draven instead.

"What was that for!"


End file.
